I thought I would share my trip to Walmart on Beach Street and 121 that almost drove me to drink. First, I have a question for you. Have you ever gone into a store for one simple thing and come out feeling like you need to sit down, take a deep breath, and let the good Lord settle your nerves? That was me after our trip to Walmart on Beach Street.
All I wanted was a bra. One bra! One tote for work. I wasn’t shopping for a new wardrobe, planning a fashion show, or trying to outfit the entire family. I needed a replacement, and I figured we could run into Walmart, find what I needed, pick up a few other things, and head home. Well, you know what they say about the best-laid plans especially when you forget to include the LORD.
David and I spent what felt like forever looking for that bra. The shelves were crammed full of merchandise, everything was disorganized, and the sizes were difficult to see. Some of the bras weren’t even in their packaging. Instead of being able to walk up, find my size, and make a purchase, I felt like I was searching for a needle in a haystack.
We walked up and down those aisles so many times that I swear we could have drawn a map of every little corner of that store. Only, the map would have been useless because we kept ending up right back where we started! It felt like we were walking down the same aisles ten million times, only to find ourselves pulled back into a tunnel or a rabbit hole that never ended. Every time I thought we were getting somewhere, there was another obstacle waiting for us. Dorthey we wasn’t in Kansas and this wasn’t the yellow brick road. It was the black hole.
By then, my head was pounding. I was frustrated, David was frustrated, and we were snapping at each other. Neither one of us went shopping intending to fuss with the other. We were simply tired of looking, tired of searching, and tired of not being able to find what we needed. And over what? A bra!
I finally walked out to the car almost in tears. Not because something terrible had happened. Not because I had received bad news. I was nearly crying because a simple shopping trip had become so overwhelming that I couldn’t take another minute of it. Sometimes, it’s the little things that push you over the edge when you’ve already had enough.
Here’s what really bothers me. The Beach Street Walmart is the closest Walmart to my house. It’s convenient. It’s the place Charlie can take me when we’re missing something in the kitchen and need it for dinner. It’s where we go to get dog food and all those everyday things a household needs.
It’s our neighborhood store. It’s the store we should be able to count on. I understand that stores get busy. I know employees have a lot to do, and I know keeping shelves organized isn’t always easy. I’m not expecting every aisle to look like nobody has ever touched a thing.
But there’s a difference between a busy store and a shopping experience that leaves a customer nearly in tears because she can’t find a basic item. The bra section was so crowded and disorganized that I couldn’t easily see the sizes. I honestly don’t even know if I came home with the right size. And if you think I’m eager to take that bra back and start the whole hunt over again, let me tell you something: I am not!
I’ll deal with it before I willingly put myself through that experience again. And that’s what makes me sad. I don’t want to dread going to the Walmart that’s closest to home. I don’t want to feel like I have to make a special trip somewhere else just to shop without becoming completely overwhelmed.
Why should I have to leave a store in tears? That’s the question I keep coming back to. By the time David and I made it back to the car, I needed more than a successful shopping trip. I needed to let go of the frustration and find a reason to laugh again. That’s where my imagination comes in.
I started thinking about Dolly Parton and Rosie the Riveter. Can you imagine taking either one of them shopping with you? Dolly could tell stories, crack jokes, and probably find a way to make even the most aggravating day sound like something worth singing about. Rosie would roll up her sleeves, put her hands on her hips, and get ready to tackle those shelves.
Although, after seeing that bra department, even Rosie might have looked at me and said, “Honey, your on your own!” Trust me I wouldn’t have blamed her. As you know I didn’t actually have Dolly or Rosie riding along with us. But sometimes, imagining the company of women who make you smile can help you see a frustrating day a little differently.
And goodness knows, I needed something to make me smile. I didn’t need somebody to tell me I shouldn’t be upset. I didn’t need to hear that it was only a bra and I should get over it. I already knew it was only a bra. That’s part of what made the whole thing so ridiculous! I needed to laugh, take a breath, and remind myself that one miserable shopping trip didn’t have to ruin the rest of my day.
As women, mothers, wives, and caregivers, we spend so much time taking care of things for everybody else. We make lists, remember what the kitchen needs, keep up with the pets, and try to make sure the everyday necessities are taken care of. Sometimes, we don’t realize how much patience we’ve used up until one more little thing comes along. That day, the little thing was a bra.
Maybe somebody reading this has had a similar experience. Maybe you’ve searched a store for something that should have been easy to find. Maybe you’ve struggled to navigate a crowded aisle, felt embarrassed asking for help, or walked away from an ordinary errand feeling much worse than you expected.
If you have, I want you to know that you’re not silly for being frustrated. Sometimes, a difficult experience really is just the last straw. I can be grateful, thankful and blessed for the things I have and still admit when something has worn me out. I can count my blessings and still wish a store would make shopping easier for its customers. Those things can both be true.
And I can be thankful for David, even when we’re both tired and snapping at each other after walking the same aisles ten million times. We were trying to get through the same frustrating experience together, and sometimes that’s what happens when two people have simply had enough.
I don’t want one shopping trip to steal my whole day. I don’t want to spend the next week grumbling every time somebody mentions Walmart. And I certainly don’t want a bra to have the power to send me into a permanent shopping retirement! But I do want to remember that my frustration mattered. It wasn’t just about finding the right size. It was about needing a simple errand to be simple, especially at the neighborhood store I depend on.
So, for now, I’ll take my purchases home, decide what I’m going to do about that questionable bra size, and try to laugh about the adventure. Maybe I’ll imagine Dolly sitting on the porch with me, sharing a story or two. Maybe Rosie will show up ready to roll up her sleeves and straighten out the whole neighborhood.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll remember that I don’t have to solve every aggravation the minute it happens. Sometimes I can step away, take a breath, say a little prayer, and give myself permission to be human. Because life is going to hand us plenty of frustrating days. Some will be big, and some will be downright ridiculous.
And if a trip to Walmart leaves me almost in tears, I can still find my way back to laughter, gratitude, and a little front-porch peace. Grateful, Thankful, and Blessed—even when a simple shopping trip tests every bit of my patience. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think Dolly and I need to sit a spell. Rosie can meet us there when she’s finished reorganizing Walmart!
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Grateful. Thankful. Blessed.
Thank you,
Glenda, Charlie and David Cates
